


Then We Will Dine on Their Marrow

by TheBoneStag (orphan_account)



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Food Porn, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-11-02 04:47:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20626379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/TheBoneStag
Summary: I’m going to murder you with love;I’m going to suffocate you with embraces;I’m going to hug you, bone by bone,Till you’re dead all over.Then I will dine on your delectable marrow.~Carolyn Kizer





	Then We Will Dine on Their Marrow

**i.**

Spaghettini boiled in water flavoured with a pinch of salt. Hannibal added the mound of chopped red tomatoes under his blade to a large stew pot sat above a sturdy stove. Reaching for another warm tomato, he put the fruit to his lips, its red and orange skin promising soft flesh and bursts of sour pulp. The tomato was chopped into a _paysanne _before being pushed into the stockpot as well. A yellow tomato was next. After that, cherry tomatoes were added in for sweetness. 

Basil, oregano, some pearl onions for good measure. He added those into the bubbling sauce, pleased when he found the tomatoes caramelizing in the slowly thickening red sauce. 

Adding some white wine, Hannibal shifted his attention to the simmering vegetables under a sauté pan. He opened the lid, using a spoon to ladle more of the buttery sweet glaze onto squat orange carrots he had carefully boiled until they were the right amount of soft, yet still had enough crunch to sigh around.

He smelled the cleanness of his own soaps before he heard Will. Tentative. Feet curved on the surface of tile in his kitchen.

"William." 

"...Dr. Lecter."

Ah. 

"Lunch will be ready in a moment." Short, simple.

He waited.

"...lunch?"

Hannibal turned to face Will. Saw the man's scruffy cheeks awash with pink; observed carefully when his eyes ran over his own figure almost shyly before they averted, fluttering shut a few milliseconds after.

Hannibal smiled. Something that he rarely allowed himself.

"I am glad you have taken the liberty to use the shower." 

Tongue stumbled over teeth. "U-uh-"

"My soap suits you."

Eyes squeezed shut. 

"Now, be good and go sit."

Will did so without comment.

Hannibal ladled the red sauce into a tureen, making sure he had scooped out all the vegetables and meat stewed soft.The pasta he drained with a sieve, then used tongs to add them into the tureen. He made sure the fire was still on as he thoroughly mixed the pasta together.

Seeing Will loose and relaxed in his chair brought him immense pleasure. Until the man went ramrod straight when he saw Hannibal coming through the hallway, large crockery in his hands. 

Will's hands fidgeted in his lap. The skin on his fingers were red, and he leaned away from Hannibal slightly. But his eyes were focused on the pot hungrily.

With a flourish, Hannibal removed the lid.

"A simple dish of spaghettini in a tomato sauce, with onions, cherry tomatoes, and chorizo for texture."

Then he lifted the lid off a platter of bright orange carrots.

"Braised _Tonda di Parigi_, with their leaves still intact. Salted butter, sweet oranges, and carrot juice."

Will's stomach let loose a quiet grumble. He licked his lips as Hannibal plated a deep bowl of the pasta and stew for him. He swallowed around a mouthful of saliva.

"Dig in, Will."

Will doesn't hesitate to, shooting Hannibal a glance before picking up his cutlery and shoveling a forkful of pasta into his mouth. He moaned around the forkful, the sweet and sourness of the tomatoes, aroma from the dried herbs, and crunch from the onions setting up a symphony of flavor in his mouth. The spaghettini is lightly salted, and there are cuts of sweet, smoky chorizo that burst on his tongue.

Spearing his fork into one, Will shoved an entire carrot into his mouth. The carrot was just the right amount of tender, it's own flavor bright and fresh. The gravy suited the carrots just right, sweet and sticky and salted just right, buttery in the way that made Will want to find a fresh wheat loaf to slather the liquids in and wolf down piece after piece.

It feels like he hadn't eaten in days.

"I am glad you like the meal."

A hand on the back of his neck.

"But, Will, _mano meilė_."

He flinched, but leaned into the touch.

"Breathe. This meal is only for you, slow down and eat, Will."

The tears at the corner of his eyes felt raw and stung his skin.

"You're safe here."

And Will nodded, small whimpers spilling past his lips as he ate and ate and ate.

**ii.**

The next time it was morning when he came to.

A few dishes and plates of food sat on the dining car Hannibal had wheeled into the room. Will blinked away the fuzziness in his eyes as he gazed at the man in question. He reached out a hand, touching Hannibal's cheek. 

Hannibal sighed and leaned close, tiger eyes shutting. 

A sign of surrender.

"Will." Came the low murmur. Eyes opened again to stare.

He swallowed, throat dry. Hannibal must've heard, or saw him wince, as the man poured a glass of something into a slim flute. The hand at the back of Will's head played lightly with the hair there as he sipped from the glass, body leaned into Hannibal.

Will coughed.

"This isn't white wine."

"No. Grape juice with a dash of glucose formula, to ease digestion."

"Mm." He drank the remainder in his flute, then turned his head to the right so his left temple laid on Hannibal's shoulder. He eyed the dishes and plates on the car. Saw a golden brown loaf sitting atop a piece of brown paper. It smelled like honey.

Hand in his hair.

"Smells nice." 

Will tugged away briefly to lean towards the deep dish as Hannibal removed the lid. The scent of butter, onions, and something familiar wafted from the baked dish. It smelled heavenly.

"Sweet onions, stewed long in a sauce of miso and butter." 

A strip was torn away from the loaf, the crust crackling and releasing steam from fluffy white bread. A small pot was opened, revealing something yellow and fluffy-looking. Will couldn't resist sneaking a finger into and sucking off what he managed to scoop out. He ignored Hannibal's unamused glance.

"Mashed potatoes?" 

"Yes." A spoonful of the mushed tubers was spread onto the slice of bread. Will sniffed and watched on, fingers itching against Hannibal's chest. The front of his shirt was unbuttoned, the deep parting revealing tufts of dark, greying hair. 

The onions and sauce were spooned onto the bread next, buttery golden sauce soaked into the white of the bread. Will opened his mouth. Hannibal folded the bread into something of a sandwich, then pressed it to his lips.

Will took a sizeable bite.

The onions were caramelized just right, slightly gooey yet still crispy at the edges. Charred just right for a hint of smoke. Miso bloomed on palate, bringing forth memories of cheap miso soup packets from a dusty shelf in a dingy gas station. This one was entirely different from the bland sour of the soup in his memory; vibrant and aromatic, almost like soy sauce and seaweed. Butter in the sauce and honey in the bread created just enough salt and sweetness. 

"Mmf." He sighed. Eyes closed as he chewed.

Onions crunched under his teeth, sweet, salty juices coaxing more saliva from his palate. He tasted flakes of chili in the potatoes. Chili and chives. Salt. Pepper.

Hand in his hair. Tugging.

Hannibal gazed down at him. Will met his eyes for a sharp second. They boiled blood and gold.

"Good?" 

Will nodded.

"Recipe from a friend. You should meet her."

When he swallowed, Hannibal fed him again.

"Why?" He asked, when he had finished the sandwich. Hannibal raised the flute to his lips. He kissed the rim. Hannibal's eyes followed the motion.

"She has a dog."

Will tossed his head back and laughed. 

**iii.**

His phone rang.

Hannibal looked away from his writing, and picked up his phone. Will's number was on the screen. The clock showed 2:37 a.m.

"Will?" 

"_Ha-an-_" Static. "_Hanni-b-ba-_"

The doctor rose from his chair, pen slipping away from fingers.

"_Will?_"

"I-_I don't know where I am, H-Han_." Voice breaking.

Hannibal put the phone to speaker. "Hush, _širdyje_. Do not panic. Remember what I taught you."

Breathing, near-hyperventilation.

"Will-"

"My name is Will Graham-" Will's voice was tight, as if there was a rope around his throat. "I-I'm in the forest, I don't know w-where-it's it's _dark_-"

"It's 2:39 a.m."

"It's two_-two_-."

Hannibal was in his car already, coat hastily thrown onto the passenger's seat. He had taken a few containers of premade meals from the freezer as well. He shifted the call to the Bluetooth system of his car.

"2:39 a.m, Will, come on. Slowly. Relax yourself."

"It's t-two, 2:39 a.m-"

"Good boy, Will. I want you to sit near a tall tree, alright, _širdyje_? Look for the moon."

Shuffling over the phone, bramble and bush crackling under the man's movements. "Han-"

"I know, _mano širdis_. I know. I'm on my way to you now. Listen to my voice, focus on it. Let it calm you, my love."

"Yes, Han." Came the throaty whisper.

"Can you see the moon?"

"Y-yeah." 

Hannibal's eyes glanced up to the full harvest moon, solemn and gold. "I want you to listen to me. I will sing to you. I want you to focus on my voice and not let your mind stray, yes, Will?"

"Yes, Ha-an."

Hannibal kept his grip on the steering wheel and sped up. He parted his lips to sing.

_Hjoggum vér með hjörvi_

_hitt vas æ fyr löngu_

_at grafvitnis morði_

Will's breathing began to even.

_Hjoggum vér með hjörvi_

_hafa gátu þá rafnar_

_œrna bráð at slíta_

Hannibal reached his house at 3:27 a.m. The dogs were by the open door, anxiously pawing at the wood. Winston came to Hannibal with a hand signal. The dog nosed against the man's wrist.

"Will?" 

"..Han.."

"I'm outside your house, Will. I'll come to you in a moment, but I need you to be awake, _širdyje._"

"Yes, Han." His voice was soft.

"Don't fall asleep. Tell me what's around you."

Winston received a rub between the ears.

"Let's go find your father." Hannibal said. The dog trotted alongside him as he went into the forest, following Will's footprints and his descriptions of the surroundings over the phone.

He found Will near a hollowed tree, head dipped low as if in deep sleep. Hannibal couldn't resist dropping a kiss between his eyes and sighing with relief. Will's head lolled onto his chest, cold hands curled up in his chest, the phone slipped into a pocket as Hannibal wrapped him in a large tartan scarf before carrying him back to his house.

Hannibal gave him a hot water rub before tucking him into bed.

"_Mano_ _širdis._" 

Will's eyelids fluttered, heavy with exhaustion. He was shivering.

".. you came.." 

"It would be impossible to not, Will. Here, drink."

Will drank from a thermos cap of hot chocolate. He licked his lips twice, pale hands slowly warming up. Hannibal fed the fire in his room before sitting close to Will on the bed again.

"I need to get some things from the car. Sleep first, beloved."

"...Han." His hand grasped Hannibal's sleeve tightly.

Hannibal held his hand close to his lips and kissed warmth back into his fingertips. Blue eyes opened briefly to look up at him.

"..stay..."

Hannibal could not say no to that, however compelling it was to retrieve the frozen foods from the back of his car for Will's morrow meals. He stripped off his vest and undid the first few buttons of his shirt before crawling into the bed. It creaked under both their weight but did not falter afterwards.

Hannibal ran his fingers through Will's hair and listened to his breathing slow. 

He fell asleep when Will's chest rose and fell in an even rhythm, the fire crackling as it consumed wooden logs.

Will woke up alone. Dread was just beginning to consume his thoughts as he pawed at his sheets, wondering if last night was all just a dream, when Hannibal entered the room with several containers in his hand.

Will sagged, relieved.

The doctor's shirt was open, revealing skin and hair. Will burrowed into his lap the moment Hannibal sat down beside him.

"Good afternoon." A kiss in his hair. On his ear.

"_Hi_." 

"Do you want to wash up first before lunch?"

"Hm..I'll brush my teeth." Will smacked his lips, wrinkling his nose at the foul taste in his mouth. He gave Hannibal a peck on the temple before shuffling towards the bathroom. Although the doctor ended up holding him from behind in the bathroom as Will couldn't stand up properly, weak from lack of food.

Will dropped back in bed, lights blinking out in his eyes. 

Hannibal fed him mozzarella-stuffed gnocchi with chanterelles and _jizong_ mushrooms, butternut squash risotto which had bits of half-melted gorgonzola and candied walnuts mixed in, and seared tuna on a bed of roasted corn and edamame.

Hannibal was wiping Will's lips of sweet potato purée when the man kissed his thumb.

"Thank you...for coming. And..staying."

"Of course, _širdyje._"

**iv.**

The entirety of the corpse's chest cavity had been hollowed out, ribs torn and nailed so they stretched behind him like wings. The lungs had been sewn tight to whatever membrane and sinew were left on the bones, forming a macabre mock of wings.

"You'd think the Copycat was a fan of gardening."

Not to mention the flowers.

"Wonder where he got them though. Jack, I'm gonna call up Zeller for a moment. Tell me when Will's done."

Will knelt close to the body. They had taken a sample of each of the flowers, and Jack was waiting for the results coming back from the lab. 

"Anything, Will?" Jack barked.

Will pressed his temples. He shook his head. It was hard to concentrate, and he didn't know why until the heartburn started.

"Not yet, Jack. I'll take another look after..."

After. After what?

His phone started vibrating. Getting up and away from the body, Will took out his phone. An alarm had been set. He unlocked the screen, silencing the alarm.

_Volvo, backseat. Glass container, lunch._

Will smiled, suddenly shy. He self-consciously looked around himself, but only found Jack talking to the few forensic people and the police. He went to his car, unlocking it and sure enough, in the backseat was a paper bag. 

A spoon and fork Will's entire cutlery drawer could not afford were tucked beside the container. Along with a crisp note.

Will slid into his car and unfolded the paper. In the good doctor's immaculate handwriting:

_Dear Will,_

_You are thin enough as it is, and with your tendency to forget yourself I have decided to make you lunch. Be good, finish your food. You have my number._

_Dr. Lecter, H._

Will felt himself grin like a schoolgirl. He tucked the note into his wallet, then opened the container. Inside it was another note, a card this time. Expensive hard paper.

_Barbeque pork shoulder, apricot roasted in butter, tonkatsu sauce, and yellow mustard._

_and_

_Honey-glazed beef ribs, iceberg lettuce, fried egg, and garlic mayonnaise._

Will unwrapped one of the foil-covered foods in the container. It was slightly hot on the inside, and almost burnt his fingers, but a few blows on his skin did the trick. The sandwich was still warm. Will scrunched up the foil and held the sandwich at eye's-length.

Fluffy white bread, slightly toasted. A thick smear of brown rich sauce atop two horizontal slabs of beef, pale hand-shredded lettuce, rich mayonnaise, and a sliced egg, the liquid yolk had hardened some time ago, but a bit still oozed out when Will sank his teeth into the sandwich. 

The bread was slightly chewy, right toasted at the edges. The beef rib split easily under his bite, its juices easing flowing into his mouth. It had hints of rosemary, thyme somewhere, _a marinade_. The sauce was sweet and smoky, just enough to flavor the meat. Lettuce crunched under his teeth, the mayonnaise and egg gooey and warm. Will couldn't help a shiver. His stomach did the same, warming up as he swallowed.

Not a moment later he had finished up the sandwich half, sighing happily. He held up another one of the foil packets, unwrapping it to try the pork sandwich.

"Will!" Jack bellowed somewhere outside the car.

Will rolled his eyes, put his sandwich back, and went back to the crime scene, but not before making sure the note had been kept in his wallet.

"Disappearing without a trace in the middle of a forensic investigation, Mr. Graham, is not a very ideal thing to do need I remind you-"

"I can't work on an empty stomach, Jack."

"How on Earth can someone even drink water without expelling it all out after witnes-"

"Ms. Katz called, Mr. Crawford, results for the uh-flowers are here!"

Jack received the spreadsheet on the iPad one of the trainees gave him. He grunted before handing it to Will. "Try again on the corpse, but with these results."

Will scowled, but scrolled through anyways.

He had to blink twice before he could believe what he was seeing.

> Rose daphne (_d__aphne cneorum_) - I desire to please
> 
> Ivy sprig (_h__edera helix_) - I am anxious to please
> 
> Morning glory (_i__pomoea_) - I attach myself to you
> 
> Coral pea (_kennedia coccinea_) - Intellectual beauty
> 
> Heartsease (_vi__ola tricolor_) - You occupy my thoughts
> 
> Harebelle (_c__ampaluna rotundifolia_) - I submit to you

and at the bottom:

> Hemlock (_conium maculatum_) - You will be the death of me
> 
> Rush daffodil (_narcissus_ _jonquilla_) - Will you love me back?


End file.
